Ikebukuro's Empty Streets
by panickedfish
Summary: Shizuo's greatest enemy is gone, leaving him to face against only himself.


It was stupid o'clock in the morning – a time when most reasonably well-rested professionals would awaken and put on their suits for another day at the office.

Shizuo Heiwajima – though dressed in his work attire – was not among these individuals. For one thing, his bartender get-up was the very same that he had been wearing yesterday evening, when his boss kicked him out and told him to take "personal time" after threatening more than one of their customers. Shizuo's bowtie hung loosely and his shirt was crumpled by the hands of other drunks, itching for a fight.

Shizuo leaned back on the park bench where he was sitting and ran a careless hand through his messy blond hair. He lit a cigarette and inhaled, watching the people passing by. Their heads were bowed and not one individual looked at him.

Shizuo staggered unsteadily to his feet and began walking. Past every blind alley, he couldn't help but let his gaze wander, always searching for just one person. But the cold gray eyes, the cocky smile that always infuriated him, even the hand brandishing the cruel-looking knife… they were all gone.

Izaya Orihara was gone.

Dead.

**_Two Days Ago_**

"Shizuo-chan."

"Izaya-kun."

Izaya was smiling. He sat behind his desk, with his feet up and ankles crossed. Various important-looking documents were crumpled and covered in shoeprints. Shizuo stood on the opposite side of the desk, his hands clenched and his eyes scanning the room for something he could throw.

"I must admit, I'm surprised that you would even show your face at my apartment."

"Didn't you invite me here?" Shizuo muttered. This was a mistake. Shizuo wanted nothing more than to leave this place, the enemy's territory. But something kept him rooted here. Was it Izaya's eyes? They were rimmed with dark circles. In fact, Shizuo hadn't seen Izaya out on the streets as of late. Somehow, the usual bite of Izaya's words seemed dulled.

Izaya seemed distracted. He idly played with his knife.

"I was just wondering," he said quietly, "if you have any experience with American gangs."

Shizuo snorted. "I'm a member of the Dollars, as you and I both know. Aside from Ikebukuro's Yellow Scarves and I suppose that psycho demon blade, that's all the gang experience I have. And they're all Japanese so I can't say anything about American gangs."

Izaya stood and walked over to the window. He looked over the downtown streets with a critical eye, his breath fogging the windowpane.

"That's all I wanted to know. You may leave."

Shizuo turned around instantly and stomped out of Izaya's apartment. At the time, he didn't think anything about their talk beyond the point that it was strange to see Izaya so introspective and quiet.

**_Yesterday_**

Celty told him that the police had found Izaya's body in a ditch early that morning. The cause was attributed to the two gunshot wounds in the back of his head. Close range. Apparently, it was the only time Izaya's information had been false. And so he paid the appropriate price.

**_Present Day_**

Shizuo stood up from his bench and walked through the dawn glow of Ikebukuro's empty streets. He passed by Izaya's old haunts and imagined their more memorable fights in his mind's eye.

Somehow, Shizuo still didn't think that he would be able to walk the streets without looking over his shoulder. Izaya wouldn't be there, but the paranoia would remain. Without an arch enemy after all these years, Shizuo wondered if he would ever find another. But there was no one in Ikebukuro who could be compared to a man like Izaya.

Shizuo stopped once he realized that his feet had taken him to a park which had been the scene of more than one altercation between them. He stared off into middle distance, watching the sun reflect a dusky red glow from glass windows of the apartments that crowded this tiny green space. He spat out his cigarette and stomped it out with his foot. He tilted his head back to look at the lightening sky.

"I hated you, but we had fun. Rest in peace, friend."

After mumbling a final farewell now that it was too late for anyone to hear, Shizuo stood up to walk home, his head bowed.


End file.
